I don’t know where I stand anymore.

Life is stressful and upsetting, and I’m starting to hate everything. Also I’ve gained weight, and I can see it, and also had it verified today on my aunt’s scale. I destroyed mine, but I can’t seem to stay off other people’s if they have them on display in their washrooms. For all these reasons, and probably more, ED really wants back in.

My debate and problem now will be: Should I let it? Or should I continue to eat, and live in misery for god knows how long?

Everything small or medium that happens to me blows up into a major thing. So every major thing, of course, is catastrophic. My emotions go up and down freely, and I have no way to control the swings they have. I am angry at almost everything and everyone, most particularly authority figures, all the negative -isms and -phobias, all the injustices in the world, and all the horrible things that happen on this planet. It’s a lot to be angry about, and so I’m hells of angry much of the time. But I also hurt so easily, and, again, what would be small things to other people blow up much bigger for me. Every emotion I have gets magnified times fifty compared to “normal” people. How am I supposed to live with this constant roller coaster — which, when it lets up, leads me either into a frenzied anxiety or a really shitty-feeling depression?

I don’t know how to fucking cope, and I never did. That’s my problem now; it has always been my problem; I don’t know how to make it not my problem.

I need help, but I won’t accept what I’ve been offered.
What I’ve been offered is inadequate.
The only person I have to rely on is me.

I don’t know if I can rely on me. 

It’s so strange... but I feel like ED is no longer a part of my life. Not that I don’t have the thoughts sometimes, urges, whatever, but… it is actually, for the first time since I got the ED, not at ALL welcome. I started voice lessons again recently (after over 6 years of illnesses), to train classically, and I can tell that with my new teacher there is absolutely HUGE potential for me to grow in my voice and performance. And I’m in two choirs as well, with directors I really like and members who love singing — and one of the choirs is actually doing classical repertoire, so I’m actually being challenged. And I just... well, I love it. Truly love.

Singing is, for me, pure joy. True joy. And not only that, but it’s one of exactly two things I think I have the most talent for in this world, creatively speaking. I haven’t felt joy in a VERY long time — so long that I can’t even remember when the last time was. High school, maybe. But more importantly, with the return of my singing I feel like I truly have something to live for now — and I don’t have to try so frigging hard just to tolerate my life, because I truly, legitimately LIKE my life now. And, because of all this, I feel that non-ED and non-borderline (or as close as I can get) is just a default, because it has to be. Disorder isn’t an option if this joy is to continue. And after so, so many years of horrible, awful misery and pain, I am not taking a single moment of my joy for granted.

I think it’s about fucking time I got my own back. If you’ll pardon my language. And I will not be stopped.

A friend wrote in reply to my last entry:

Niika, it's a shame to see you struggling so much and seeming so hopeless.

What is it you feel the treatment is missing? Have you tried to broach the issues with your psych/head of the programme?

What do you need that might make the difference?

Recovering this way is not working great but how long have you given it? But being ill clearly hasn't been working either, you've spent years on that route and it's not made life better. There must be something out there worth fighting for, worth persevering to find the right help, optimism for a good life, for?  


I've spent years getting help, too, and it hasn't seemed to work. This is my third stint at this IOP place and it STILL doesn't stick. Some of the clinicians are being jerks and the whole place seems bent on controlling me and making me jump through some stupid set of hoops that I won't jump through. Being very stupid therapeutically with me. They don't know how to deal with my BPD either, which makes everything a thousand times worse, cause that's what comes up when I let go of ED. And my psychiatrist who's supposed to be treating the BPD has been gone for like forever. And therapists are always going on vacations, and leaving me, during hard times in my treatments. How the fuck am I supposed to handle shit like that, or get better when people are always leaving during times I need them the most? (That seems to be a pattern, too... not just a once or twice thing.)

I know what I need for treatment and I also know there's not a chance in hell that I'll get it. So instead I'm just doing this. I'm sick of all the bullshit with treatment here in my country, and I'm fucking livid that no residential place in this country that I have heard of can effectively treat comorbid BPD and ED. And my last psychiatrist scoffed at me when I asked him about American treatment ages ago, and I know my current psychiatrist will babble something about how putting borderlines in residential programs or hospitals makes them worse and not better (although I did my very best when I was at M House). [And, no, I can't go back to M House again. I know the program very well and I don't think they even do third times, let alone for someone like me, who's so unstable and chaotic and seems to lose the plot once she leaves the place.]

Today I was 103.9 lbs. Two days ago my night weight was 107.2; the next morning I was 106.3. So over the last two days I've lost a little over three pounds. Seems like a lot, but I'm guessing most of it was fluid and/or food weight... probably a bit of both.

I want to lose weight. I don't care about the consequences. HANG the consequences. The consequences of eating and gaining weight are just as bad, if not worse. Actually, yes, they feel quite a bit worse. Especially because the treatment I'm getting is half-assed at best, because the people at the ED treatment place STILL don't know how to properly deal with borderlines, and the psychiatrist I see for DBT won't even acknowledge that my ED is a real problem, or a real diagnosis for that matter. So I'm basically doubly fucked.

I thought this was going to be truly it... the time I actually did it and recovered. But I guess it is not to be. I simply can't handle all the stupid bullshit that comes with "recovery". I honestly really do feel so much happier mood-wise now that I'm restricting again. It may not last, but at least I'll have it for awhile -- and I'll actually be thin again. I feel so, so fucking fat right now. Especially because of all the weight I gained on my boobs and stomach. YUCK.

I just want it all gone gone gone. The weight. The food. My life. Whatever. Go go get out leave me alone and never come back, because I don't want to see you anymore. 

Eating again... probably in the triple digits... I haven't weighed myself in awhile and honestly haven't thought about it. I'm not sure I want to know. I want to continue not caring as I've been doing. My diet is pretty steady, though my dietician tells me I need more dairy and way more fruits/veg. I do get her POV but I really don't want to increase what I'm eating. My day at home usually looks something like this:

Breakfast: 1-1.5 cups cereal with at least 1 cup milk
Coffee with milk and/or cream and Splenda
Diet Pepsi with my meds

Lunch: Some sort of sandwich (2 grains and 0.5-1 protein, and if it's a fake meat sandwich I use mayo so that would be 1 fat)
A piece of fruit
An individual size Greek yogurt
Probably more diet soda

If I have an afternoon snack it might be junk food (like a chocolate bar or a Jos Louis or some cookies) or it might be like a granola bar and fruit, or a granola bar and yogurt, or whatever the hell I have in the house that seems good as a snack.

Supper: 1 protein and 1.5-2 grains. Usually this comes in the form of 4 chick'n nuggets and fries, or 2 veggie dog weiners and fries. I'm trying to make myself have pasta with my soy ground "beef" but so far it hasn't worked yet. Sometimes I have dessert... or within an hour or two I'll probably have chocolate if I didn't have it at snack already.

Evening snack: Again it could be anything. Is junk food most of the time, though, because at night is when I tend to want junk. My dietician wants me to start having cereal and milk for an evening snack and sometimes I do this out of sheer laziness. (Or sometimes I have cereal and milk for supper as well as breakfast because cooking seems like "too much" so I just don't bother.)

I mean, I don't think my meal plan is THAT bad. Yes I do need more fruit and veg but I really don't care about the dairy... and the fruit and veg is harder because it's so stupidly expensive. And again with not wanting to increase my portions anywhere. I feel like I am eating plenty!!!! Maybe a snack needs to become something that includes fruit or veg... *sigh*

Whatever. I'm doing a lot better than I was and I seem to be making progress mentally as well (better concentration, more interest in stuff, etc) so I think this is actually going decently well. Maybe someday I'll be able to accept more increases as a permanent part of my mealplan (instead of just sometimes when I'm out, or whatever). Maybe.... 

96.8 lbs. BMI: 16.7.

I want to lose more. Lose all this fat weight that I gained. Lose muscle, too, if necessary.

ED brain: 110% ON. 

Morning weight: 97.7 lbs. BMI: 16.9. As I said in the entry before this, I really thought I weighed a lot more than that... I guess not O.o. But I can see the fat gain all over my body and I HATE IT and I want it gone. And I don't want to deal with any of my psychological shit right now because I CAN'T deal on my own and I feel that's basically what I would have to do right now... I have no psychologist, no true psychological supports. I mean I could call the dietician or something but what would that do? She can't help with the psychological crap.

ARGH I HATE ALL THIS.

Just weighed... a night weight, but still... and I was 99 lbs. That means I'll probably be lower tomorrow morning. How is it possible that I've hardly gained any weight? I feel like I definitely look the same as at my "unsafe" weight (like 103-105) and I need to lose lose lose. I can't get this shit out of my head right now. FUCK.

(Ranty type thing ahead)

Ugh... yesterday and today were harder than things have been for awhile... people in my IOP treatment place talking about the millions of treatment centers they've been to, making me think I'm not good enough, I'm not sick enough... and then friends who are basically in full-out relapse mode, making me think "well if they can do it I can do it too"... and just not wanting to feel feelings, and all sorts of other shit. I need to quiet this stupid ED for good but I don't know how to do it. It seems like the more I eat, the more brain power I get, the louder ED gets because I start remembering everything from my past and I get triggered by stupid things like this and then I want to just restrict again. AAAAGH I don't even know

Did my first "week" of ED IOP Monday and Tuesday of this week, then had a psychiatrist appointment on Wednesday... when I remembered today that this weekend is a long weekend (meaning I have a holiday on Monday from IOP) I was SO glad!!! Being at IOP was incredibly hard. It made me angry to be there, and then I would get ridiculously anxious after groups or meals, only to come home and crash into a drained, extremely empty depressive state. But now that I've not had groups or meal supports or any other sort of therapizing for a couple days, and have done some fun things, I sort of feel like my head's back on a little better... if that makes sense.

I don't know what I weigh right now. Last time I weighed myself was over a week ago, the day of my psychology assessment; that day I was 98.2 lbs. I'm kind of afraid to get on the scale now; but, more than that, I find myself partly not even caring what the number is (!!). I think this is because I know I'm likely to freak out at whatever number I see at this stage, and not caring is an easy thing to default to when in truth I really just don't WANT to care... and can't afford to think about that sort of shit if I'm going to be able to stay in recovery.

I still feel that this body is fat fat fat. Ginormous. Monstrous. Huge. The list could go on and on. And eating is still mostly a chore, and often something I hate doing; but the hatred seems to be easing off, if only slightly, and there are times when I do somewhat enjoy my meals or snacks. The trick is to just KEEP GOING. That is so important right now. The dieticians would call it mechanical eating. I call it just not letting ED's opinion affect what I am determined to do, which is to get my life back... even if it means having to eat regularly. I still dislike eating so much that this is still the way I see it. But I want my life back, GODDAMNIT, and I'm going to GET my fucking life back and ED can have a punch in the goddamned fucking FACE. And then screw off. Because I don't want to fucking listen to him/it anymore. 

I got accepted to [ED IOP]... but then I got an appointment for my psychological evaluation for two weeks away. And I was told on THAT day is when I'll get my appointment for the dietician assessment! *headdesk* Oh well. I suppose at least I'm getting anything for the ED. Some people can't even access services at all. Just a few years ago, that would have been the case here too.

As for me... well, I know I'm at least 94 now. It's possible I've gained more, but I'm not certain of it. I do know I'm getting hungrier in between meals, or after supper, like for a snack or whatever, and I haven't been able to stop myself eating crappy things like chocolate bars when I get like that, which pisses me off. I did NOT want to gain much weight before going to the program. But evidently my body has other things in mind... god fucking dammit!!! I hate this body... but I hate this eating disorder just as much... afhdskjfahskfhdskhfsa.

I'm quite frustrated. If you can't tell. Ha.

Eating. Trying to recover... slowly. If I do it too fast I will freak out. Last time I checked my weight it was ~94, and may have increased since then. I don't know. I am loathe/scared to find out. I don't want to freak out about the food I'm eating, because by a dietician's standards it probably still isn't enough, especially because I'm pretty sure they're going to want me on a weight gain plan eventually, and I'm not sure I'm actually doing that yet. I mean, to me I feel like I'm eating quite a lot of food, and I HAVE gained at least 2-3 lbs, so to me this still feels like a weight gain plan. Plus I think I've been eating more in the last couple of days, as I will get up at like 8 AM, eat something, then go back to sleep... then get up and have the "meals" I was already having. So there are some extra calories already.

I feel okay about this... for now. Tomorrow I am supposed to get the call with whether or not I am going to be offered a spot at HOPE. I had the RMI, and generally speaking I think I passed it, although there were a couple of questions that weren't so great or that I probably did not pass. But I'd say I passed at least 80% of them. So they can't really deny me entrance to the program... can they??? I don't know. I really hope not. I really think I need the support if this is to continue. One of my main issues is that I hate being alone, recovering alone, and then having everyone think I'm doing JUST FINE!!! because I look fine from the outside. I have absolutely no intentions of ever doing that again. If I'm going to gain weight and look "normal" again, I want support, because otherwise it will just be too painful to deal with and sooner or later I will fall back into ED. Partly maybe because I would wilfully want it, but also partly just because I'd be terrified of having to deal with anything in my life without it.

So there you have it... an update. I just noticed I hadn't posted anything in awhile, so I figured I'd write something.

90.9 lbs. BMI: 15.7.

Went to the dentist this morning and got a filling done. After I went to Shoppers to buy my bus pass, and took the bus to the grocery store, AND came back home with what little food I could purchase, part of my mouth and tongue were STILL numb. But I knew I had to eat/drink something because I did so much walking and was dehydrated, so I did it anyway... but I've gotta tell ya, trying to eat Greek yogurt and drink Coke Zero with half your mouth and tongue still numb made me feel like a damned infant. I could hardly get the fucking yogurt in my mouth, and if I wasn't careful while drinking I dribbled Coke down my chin. *sigh*

Ah well. First world problems. It could be much, much worse!!

Nothing now until next week, which as I mentioned before is basically chock full of appointments. So now I play the waiting game yet again. 

91.7 lbs.

Saw the liaison nurse today… talked a lot about the DBT that Dr. D is going to do with me. (It’s easier to write Dr. D than his full name, because it’s long and really difficult to spell. Haha.) They have this theory that once I get far along enough in DBT, I will be able to break down the barriers around my ED and I’ll be able to recover myself. Well, I sure hope that’s true. And I sure hope it happens before I end up in a hospital (aka the same psych ward I just got discharged from). You know.

My schedule looks a little something like this: Tomorrow I got a cancellation appointment to get my filling done (YES!) at 11:40. I say YES! only because I’ve been waiting forever to get it filled, and things like brushing can cause it pain because I have about three fillings in that one tooth and at least one is apparently crumbling. Then next Tuesday the liaison nurse comes over again at 1, on Thursday at 3 I see Dr. D for my first outpatient appointment, and on Friday I go in for my readiness inventory for the ED IOP at 1 PM. Yes, that’s right… I have to wait yet another week and a half to get the RMI done. Apparently everyone was or has been on vacation, and this was the earliest I could get an appointment. Woo-fucking-hoo.

At least I feel like thing are sort of starting to go somewhere now… though it remains to be seen how any of it will actually turn out. But I have hope that maybe at least some of it will help (like the DBT), and maybe I actually CAN do enough DBT work to be able to turn ED around before I end up hospitalized again. Maybe. I’d like to think it’s the last time I’ll ever need to set foot in a hospital... but, then, I’ve thought that so many times before. 

92 lbs. BMI: 15.9.

I just got up, so there isn't much to say. Gonna beg my dad to buy me a 2L of Diet Pepsi and I'll give him the money for it when he gets here. Haha. (I'm lazy and don't want to walk to the store.) Gonna take my meds with Powerade Zero and make my coffee in a bit.

Life wanders on.